


Cynophobia

by thegirlnamedcove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dogs, Domestic Fluff, Fear, Fluff, M/M, Panic Attacks, Phobias
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 14:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15608232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlnamedcove/pseuds/thegirlnamedcove
Summary: “You know how they say most canid species don’t get along? Y’know, wolves don’t like foxes, foxes don’t like coyotes, and so on? This is not how I imagined it manifesting.”





	Cynophobia

**Author's Note:**

> I originally intended this for Sterek Bingo but didn't finish on time. Oh well, I still like it.
> 
> The last few months have been a hellscape of writer's block. Here's hoping it clears soon.

“You know how they say most canid species don’t get along? Y’know, wolves don’t like foxes, foxes don’t like coyotes, and so on? This is not how I imagined it manifesting.”

Derek glared at Stiles from his perch on top of the wardrobe and Joey, their neighbor’s german shepard / black lab mix, woofed in his direction with a big goofy grin on his face.

“Could you--Stiles--are you going to help?”

“I mean, if I  _ have to _ .”

“Stiles!”

He chuckled under his breath and crouched down, below Joey’s head level. He patted both hands against his thighs and pitched his voice high and inviting.

“C’mere, boy! C’mere! Wanna play?”

Joey looked at him over his shoulder, and then back at Derek. He seemed torn, and almost vibrating out of his skin with excitement, so Stiles shuffled closer and slapped his hand against the ground.

“C’mere broseph, we can wrestle or play tag or even run outside!”

Joey’s head shot up at that, and he directed his dopey grin at Stiles fully.

“That got your attention? Outside? You wanna go for a walk?”

He woofed again, and hustled into Stiles’ space, nearly bowling him over with the sheer weight of his body. Joey licked his face from bottom to top, and rubbed his head along Stiles’ neck and shoulders, before he managed to get a hand onto the harness that sat around the big dog’s shoulders in place of a collar.

“Okay, snot breath, let’s go for a walk. I bet Melanie is missing you like crazy, huh?”

He glanced up at the top of the wardrobe but his boyfriend was gone, presumably scuttled off to the back bedroom to avoid being seen by the dog, so Stiles headed straight for the door and down the street to return him.

When he returned, Derek was still nowhere in sight, at least not on the ground floor. He called out for him, and did a sweep of all the spare bedrooms they kept furnished for pack members who dropped by, but there wasn’t even a sign that he had moved anything. A kernal of genuine worry settled in his chest for the first time since the dog had burst in through their back door.

“Derek? Sugarpie? Honey bunches of oats?”

He headed up the stairs towards their bedroom and Derek’s office, making as much noise as he could to broadcast his arrival. He hoped the smack of his rubber soles against the hardwood would be enough that Derek would trust he was alone.

At the top of the stairs, the attic door was open, just a crack, and the amber light of the old fixtures up there filtered through and onto the floor.

Derek, when he finally found him, was curled up on a mattress they’d long since abandoned up there, shivering and staring at a fixed point on the wall. His hands were running along his arms, then his legs, then his sides, on a circuit, like he was checking for something. Under his breath he was humming, something atonal and anxious, and he seemed to only barely register that Stiles was there.

“Baby? How you doing?”

“Dogs.”

The word was soft, almost whispered, but clear in the quiet attic.

“Yeah, there was a dog. He’s gone now, baby. You’re safe.”

Stiles reached out a hand to lay on Derek’s shoulder, and then recoiled when Derek flinched. His hands never faltered in their circuit, checking arms, legs, torso, but he did grimace and whimper a little bit at the almost-touch.

“Dogs. I...I can’t…”

“Baby? Baby is seems like you’re panicking right now. I’m going to go close and lock the door, okay? So nothing will get in here, and we’ll be safe.”

Derek shivered, but nodded. Stiles moved, slowly, towards the attic steps and to the door. He closed it, and threw the bolt, and then set a box against the base just for good measure. He was pretty sure Joey the dog wouldn’t be able to get past the handle anytime soon, if he came back at all, but Derek didn’t seem to know that right now and Stiles was disinclined to argue.

“I’m coming back up. Nice and slow. I want you to focus on breathing, in and out, steady and calm. You listening?”

He came to the top of the steps to see Derek still, which was a victory, and breathing. He settled a few feet away, aware now of the need for space, and guided him through a few minutes of breathing exercises as Derek twitched and shook and generally seemed ready to bolt any second.

Finally, he managed to sit up, although it was more of a half sprawl against the wall. Stiles offered him a smile and scooted a few inches closer so he could offer his upturned palm if Derek wanted it.

He grabbed Stiles hand.

“So, I want to start with an ‘I’m sorry’. Laughing at you was not cool. I clearly misjudged the severity of your fear. It’s just...I mean, I don’t mean to sound judgey but like...dogs? Why dogs? You know you could’ve eaten that dog, right?”

“Stop saying dogs,” Derek choked out, and Stiles plastered a hand over his mouth and nodded, feeling like a giant ass. Derek shuddered out a breath. “It’s...hunters use them. All the time. It’s not like some trauma thing, it’s never happened to me specifically, but we always  _ knew _ , growing up, we knew what barking meant. It meant if you didn’t run you were going to die. Those things are...I just can’t...they freak me out.”

“Okay,” Stiles dropped his hand away from his mouth and instead cradled Derek’s hand from both sides, “That sounds like a good reason. But you know Joey wouldn’t hurt you, right?”

He laughed, although it was feeble.

“I  _ know _ , but I don’t...know? I can’t...turn it off. The response. I won’t ever be okay with him, you have to know that, I...if you’ve got some idea in your head about acclimating me to the fear, I swear to god I will take my shit and I will go to Peter’s--”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Stiles scrambled up onto the mattress and pinned down Derek’s thighs with his own. It was maybe the wrong move, he knew how well touching had gone over earlier, but Derek hadn’t threatened to “go to Peter’s” in months, since their last serious fight. “No one is going anywhere. I will respect the hell out of this boundary, I just didn’t know it was there before.”

He snaked his arms around Derek’s shoulders and held him tight, and felt Derek loosen in response and bury his nose into Stiles’ neck.

They sat there like that, arms and legs in a tangle, breathing in and out at a slower and slower pace.

Eventually, once they had settled down into something calm and even, he hooked his chin over Derek’s shoulder and took a deep breath.

“When I was a kid, we had this lesson in school about Leonardo DaVinci. All of his inventions and art, and it included his flying machines. There’s one that’s pretty well known that looks like a corkscrew? Well, I decided that because I was a smart kid and had a ton of cardboard at home, I could probably make it myself. Dad found it funny, when it was in the garage, but then one day while he was at work I took it up on the roof. Took me like two hours, it was really big and awkward. And then I climbed inside. I figured I was skinny, you know, and light enough. So I shoved myself off the edge.”

He swallowed, and knew his heart was racing in his chest. It wasn’t a great memory. But after seeing Derek so vulnerable he felt like he needed to make himself vulnerable too. He needed to show that he understood.

Derek didn’t stop or interrupt him, just snaked a hand behind himself to lace his fingers with Stiles’.

“I broke my right leg, and my left foot, and my whole left arm and shoulder in multiple places. We still had a high fence then, and our neighbors were at work so no one heard me yelling for...it was a while. I don’t know how long. After I healed, like months later, the fire department came to our school for safety day and they started offering kids the chance to go up in their bucket thing, way above the school. It was safe, there was a harness and a fireman there, and I wanted to go but...as soon as it moved I was panicking. I hyperventilated and threw up and I think I kicked the guy. Turns out my brain had decided that the height was the thing to be afraid of and ever since...I won’t push you, ever, is what I’m saying. And if I ever do, now you can push me right back.”

Derek turned in the circle of his arms and pulled him in tight. They each ended up buried in the crook of the other’s neck, slotted together like matching pieces, and Derek smiled pressed a kiss into the skin there.

“I won’t.”

“I know. That’s what love is.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Whisper a dangerous secret to someone you care about. Now they have the power to destroy you, but they won't. This is what love is."
> 
> \--Night Vale Twitter


End file.
